It feels so real. I can see it clearly in my mind. I've dreamed it, I've prayed for it, I've longed for it with every cell in my body. This morning I've dreamed it again. Now I lay here, my eyes still closed. Savouring the joy, letting the thrill of what my soul longs for run through my spirit.

I hear my son's voice, and feel his joy as he breaks free from the chains of non-speaking autism and relentless seizures. The hope, the dream, takes a breath and exhales out in visions that dance across my soul. Freedom, he deserves to be free.

Before I know it, the sun crawls over the horizon, sending buttery light through the tall windows. I open my eyes long enough for a breath. Then the blood chilling seizure scream echoes through the quiet hope I was holding, cracking a fissure through my heart.

I run up the stairs. I pray for peace. I see his body seizing and the look of terror on his face. Replacing the picture of freedom that had passed through me like smoke in the breeze.

The darkness in the shadows smirks at my moment of faith, attempting to drag me into a deep hole of doubt to wallow. "You knew better than that. How many years have you believed in this promise? When will you give up and realize you've been believing a child's dream?" The enemy of our souls does not mince words.

But those ugly accusations don't undo the peace the same way they have in the past. I am seasoned, yes, battle scarred, that's true. But I have also learned to pick up my sword and fight back. Learned that the sole purpose of the darkness is to keep me, to keep my son from the assignment we were created for. "We will not go quietly into the night."

I hold on to him with both hands. I speak God's peace over him. I place the oxygen mask and repeat the promises of God. I battle back the lies of the serpent. Demanding he back down and let my son breathe. I resist a laugh when I think of getting a shovel and chopping off the head of that ancient snake.

Why should he fear me? Because I am the daughter of The Great King. And The King of Kings has made promises that He will keep! He is not a man that He should lie. (Numbers 23:19)

When Britton's breathing finally levels to a more normal rhythm, I read the prophecy spoken over him by the South African Prophet Kim Clement. "For this one will become a soldier of God, a strong and powerful preacher of the gospel...an apostle with a sword in his hands!"

Maybe you don't believe in God. Maybe you used to, or never did. Disappointment with God is such a common reason to back away from Him, from His promises...I understand that completely.

The thing is...everything changed in my mind once I grasp the reality that this is war. "Be sober-minded and alert. Your adversary, the devil, prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. Resist him, standing firm in your faith."
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THIS. IS. WAR!

We can't see our enemies. Maybe... that's the most difficult part of fighting. But when Britton began to type, and he said he could see "things," the rest of us couldn't. I asked him what he meant. His words sent the tiny hairs on the back of my neck straight up.

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"WAKE UP! DON'T FORGET THEY WATCH!"

(I removed extra punctuation and spaces. I did not change any words.)

I confess, some days FEEL like a loss... days that I write on the calendar for the doctor. Letting her know that the current plan...the meds we are using and/or the dosing has failed him...failed us.

I may have said this before...but the energy changes in our home from the second Britton cries out. Silence is what you would notice. We are each inside ourselves. Battling the voices that come from lots of places. Voices that demand justice. Voices that cry from grief...voices that ask how much longer, oh Lord faithful and true?

It's the same in most homes that fight these battles. I've been in several, the first time I was stunned by the similarities. The cloud of disappointment hanging like a a black shadow and the battle it required to blow it back to the Hell it came from. Make no mistake, this is war.

"Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil. For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places." Ephesians 6:12

Who could say it better than the apostle Paul? He prayed against the same enemy...fought ugly battles. He was in prison for his faith when he penned those words. What that means to me is that the enemy of our souls is an ancient enemy. One who knows humans better than we know ourselves.

We cannot battle him on our own...with our flesh. We must battle him the same way Jesus did. We lift the shield of faith. We slice him with the sword of the word, and we resist him, calling out his lies...He retreats, and we stand. Our hearts pounding, sucking in air, till we can finally catch our breath. We've won another battle. We stand. Spiritual muscles flexed, armor in place, and God's words on our lips. We are still standing. Thirty-four years.

​So He told them, “I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven.19Behold, I have given you authority to tread on snakes and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy. Luke 10:18

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